


Past Bedtime

by keelywolfe



Series: Sleeping [4]
Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-30
Updated: 2013-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-27 12:05:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/661810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelywolfe/pseuds/keelywolfe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>They were, Fíli knew, going to be caught. Of that he was certain.</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The dangers of sneaking about after bedtime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Past Bedtime

* * *

They were, Fíli knew, going to be caught. Of that he was certain.

Over the years he and Kíli had become something like experts at sneaking around, more than used to creeping through tunnels, taking careful steps over stone floors to escape the sharp ear of his mother. Perhaps she should have installed wooden floors in their rooms for it seemed to Fíli that no matter the care of his steps, the boards creaked and moaned, announcing his steps and surely any mischief he'd managed in his youth would have been lost if Dís had had the foresight to lay such a trap for her troublesome sons.

Fíli spared a thought for his mother, remembering her tears as they had vowed to join Thorin on his quest. They had not swayed their determination, though Fíli knew Kíli had been shaken. 

So many she had lost. Grandfather, father, husband; one blow after another dealt to her heart from which she had never quite recovered. He and Kíli had been raised as much by the barracks of soldiers as they were their mother, by their Uncle who had spared every moment he could to training them, teaching them. By Dwalin, old warrior, formerly of the King's Guard and he had never forgotten his allegiance to the line of Durin, including to troublesome children.

At his majority, Fíli had been named heir and Dís had been distant yet proud, in her way, and Fíli had been pleased at her approval. Yet it was his Uncle's pride that spurred him, his brother's love that drove him and none of his mother's tears would have persuaded him to stay behind.

Said brother was currently crouched before him, creeping through the hallways of Beorn's home as they embarked on a much shorter quest than their journey to Erebor; a quest to locate their Uncle's room and discover just what it was he was up to with the little Hobbit. 

More Kíli's quest than his own, really, as Fíli honestly did not care a whit about his Uncle's proclivities. He was the eldest and therefore, he was the responsible one. So how it was his brother managed time and again to drag him along with his schemes, well. That was a question for the ages, was it not?

"Dwalin is going to catch us," Fíli whispered dourly, less prediction than truth and when Dwalin did, their necks were going to be the worse for it.

"He will if you can't be quiet!" Kíli hissed, slinking along the wall. Ever light on his feet, Kíli moved soundlessly through the corridors as Fíli copied him, though not quite as nimble. Through the darkened hallways they crept, circling around the main room where the others still sat around the fire, pipes in hand. Barely, Fíli caught a glimpse of Dwalin, still sitting with his back to the corner and Balin close by. 

"Do you see?" Kíli whispered in his ear, "Dwalin's attention is elsewhere. Now come, Bilbo left! We do not have much time."

"I think perhaps you do not give our uncle enough credit," Fíli said dryly. If he and the Hobbit were finished before he and Kíli arrived, the honor of their line would never survive. 

The two of them skulked along to the door and the both of them froze at the sounds carrying through the heavy wood. Their uncle's voice was distinct, harsh syllables muffled by the door between them. Bilbo's higher voice seemed to carry, bright and sharp and if there were words, they were not discernible amidst his moans. 

Kíli gestured to the floor and Fíli frowned, settling on the floorboards to peer at whatever had caught his brother's attention. Beneath the gap betwixt door and floor, Fíli could make out the shadowy outline of feet, perhaps even knees, and realized that Bilbo and Thorin must be pressed right up against it. Too eager to even get to the bed, were they? He hadn't quite expected that from either of them; they were both so old, he'd had an idea they'd been creaking together in the bed, groaning about their aching joints. 

He muffled his laughter into his sleeve and felt Kíli quiver next to him as he did the same. Heaviness settled across his back, startling him; he'd not heard Kíli move and the brat set his weight on his elbows, digging painfully into Fíli's spine as his brother leaned in close to whisper by his ear.

"Do you think he let the hobbit have him again?" Kíli asked, softly.

Fíli turned his head to grin up at Kíli, "The way he was sitting today, if he did they would be able to hear him in the goblin city."

More laughter, this time muffled into his own hair as Kíli buried his face into it. Impatiently, Fíli tried shrugging him away; the points of his brother's elbows were going to leave bruises if he didn't move.

Instead of rolling away, Kíli scrambled up to straddle him, pressed against Fíli's back with his mouth damp on his neck. "Listening to them might give a person ideas," Kíli whispered, low, and Fíli couldn't argue that. Certainly the sweet, rhythmic cries ringing out behind that door brought an unexpected curl of interest into Fíli's belly. 

Still, there was one point Fíli thought he might make, "The last time I gave in to you, I was nearly eaten by a troll."

"All the more reason to make up for lost time."

Time that was very close to running out. As their uncle had said, they would only be here briefly. He rolled Kíli off him, taking his hand and drawing him to his feet. "Come on, then."

There would no privacy close to the fire and so Fíli led him to the pantry, the struggle to be quiet all the worse for their impatience. The door had barely shut before Kíli was upon him, hands grappling at his clothing, fumbling apart ties and buckles with eager ineptitude.

"Let me…stop…you're tangling them!" Fíli protested, his laughter cutting off with a grunt as Kíli pushed him to his knees. So impatient, always, and if he left it to Kíli, they'd be struggling to couple half-dressed, caught up in snarled clothing and hair. 

With a quick sweep of his feet, Fíli rolled his brother roughly to the floor, holding him down, wrists pinned, until Kíli gave, sagging back on the floorboards and glaring up at him. 

"Now keep still a moment," Fíli growled, squeezing Kíli's wrists until he exhaled, low, and gave a reluctant nod. Still, he paused, loosening his grip warily until he was sure Kíli wasn't about to pounce upon him again. 

But it would seem for once Kíli was choosing to be obedient, only watching with shadowed eyes as Fíli struggled off his boots, then trousers, leaving his tunics as some feeble cover lest they were discovered. Kíli said nothing, breathing heavily, his parted lips wet from a flick of his tongue.

Fíli gave a quick glance around, cursing to himself that he hadn't the foresight to realize where this was heading. All his gear was stowed near the fire and he hadn't a thing to slick their way. The pantry was luckily well-stocked and he found a small flask of cooking oil, snatching it up before settling astride his brother.

Kíli wrinkled his nose in amusement as Fíli popped out the cork, slicking his fingers, "Are you intending to make a feast of yourself?"

"If I'd wanted that, I would have chosen the bacon grease," Fíli grunted as he reached back between his legs and pressed his slick fingers inside, wincing at the stretch. They'd had so few opportunities and it had been some time since their tryst before the trolls. His body had grown stubbornly tight and Fíli worked his fingers against it, his forearm flexing as he opened himself. 

"If you'd chosen the bacon grease, you'd have Bombur sniffing after you," Kíli whispered into his throat, his fingers joining Fíli's, greedily urging his own in deeper as he tried to add another.

"Stop, stop," Fíli gasped, arching as his fingers glanced at that sweet spot within, "You'll end me too soon."

"Come on, then," Kíli whined, gripping Fíli at the hips as he rolled his own upward, rubbing the bulge of his cock against Fíli's. "You're ready enough."

Fíli huffed out a laugh, pulling his fingers free to attack the lacings on Kíli's trousers. "Your concern is overwhelming."

Beneath his hands, his brother's cock was swollen hard and Fíli poured out a palmful of oil, slicking him before shuffling back on his knees to press the head to his entrance. The first breech made him hiss, the burn sharp as Kíli's insistent grip pulled him down too quickly and he groaned too loud as Fíli's body yielded with reluctance. Fíli's thighs trembled as he fought to hold back a little, struggling to adjust. 

But there was no resisting Kíli's brattish eagerness and Fíli settled atop him with a pained sigh, using his own weight to keep Kíli still once he was there. Or as still as he could, Kíli was already squirming and moaning, drawing up his knees and bracing his feet on the floor as he tried to thrust up despite Fíli's resistance.

"Hold a moment, you berk!" Fíli hissed, though he rose up the tiniest bit, sinking back down just to feel Kíli shudder beneath him. He expected a sassy reply, perhaps a comment that a warrior such as him should be able to take it, should he not? 

Instead, he was met with a desperate whimper, Kíli's hands tightening convulsively on his hips as he writhed, grinding up into Fíli as he struggled against his brother's stillness, "Oh, oh, please, you—oh!"

With a jolt, Fíli realized Kíli was not playing the brat, he was _close_ and Fíli barely had a chance to wrap a hand around his own cock, stroking with frantic zeal, before Kíli choked off another cry. He pushed up into Fíli hard enough that stars sparked behind his eyes…and then collapsed to the floorboards, spent.

Fíli stared down at him in flabbergasted dismay, already feeling Kíli softening within him. Dark, languid eyes met his own, slowly filling with sheepish regret.

"You…you…" Fíli sputtered, slapping both hands roughly down on Kíli's chest, "You selfish prick!"

"I'm sorry!" Kíli whispered, guiltily, "You were—"

"What I was and am is not finished! You rotten, self-serving beardless ass!"

Roughly, Fíli climbed to his feet, wincing as Kíli slipped carelessly free. He fumed as he snatched up his clothes, already feeling the wetness creeping down his thighs. Sore and sullied for the evening and he hadn't even had his own pleasure from it!

He was stepping into his trousers, precarious on one foot, when Kíli swept it out from under him and surely the crash he made as he hit the floor was loud enough to alert the others. Neither of them cared any longer, wrestling fiercely as Fíli hurled whispered insults and Kíli snarled out apologies. Until Fíli managed to twist one of Kíli's arms up between his shoulders, one knee hard in the small of his back as he pinned his brother to the floorboards again. Though this time they were both bare, Kíli's trousers having fallen to his knees as they grappled and the bare curve of his backside arched up invitingly. 

Beneath him, Kíli breathed raggedly, his hips trying to rise beneath Fíli's weight as he held him down.

"Take me," he begged.

"No," Fíli rasped out, struggling with the urge to do just that. Had Kíli planned this, planned to enrage him, entice him when he was already angry and aroused? Perhaps he had; Kíli was cleverer than most gave him credit. 

Kíli ignored him, "Claim me. Make me yours."

Fíli tugged hard on the wrist in his grip until Kíli gasped in pain, felt the strain in his shoulder as he hissed out. "If I ever claim you, I will do it when I say it is time. You cannot force me on this, Kíli."

"I know what you think," Kíli snarled, twisting to glare at Fíli over his shoulder through the tangle of his hair. "You think me too young, that I will regret and I tell you, I know my heart!"

"And I say it is my claim to make when I so choose!"

"Please!" Kíli begged, rolling his hips upward, spreading his thighs as wide as the binding of his trousers allowed. It was mesmerizing; smooth skin, barer than a Dwarf should be and begging for Fíli to spread those soft cheeks, spear that tiny pink hole with the heaviness of his cock and claim Kíli as his own.

"Whore," Fíli whispered, hotly, though the insult was meaningless and they both knew it. No one had taken Kíli, none had claimed him and Fíli's body seemed to move without his permission, laying down atop Kíli and pressing between those soft cheeks.

Kíli pushed up eagerly, his cries turning betrayed as Fíli only rutted against him, riding the smooth cleft, hips jerking hard. He fought Kíli's angry squirms, clutched at the arm still trapped between them and Kíli cried out again, his hand clenching into a fist. Blindly, Fíli mouthed at the back of his neck, tasting sweat and strands of hair as he scraped his teeth against it, biting until Kíli finally subsided, allowed him to grind against him.

He felt it when Kíli tensed beneath him, a low, ragged moan escaping him as he found his pleasure again and Fíli bared his teeth in a snarl, riding his brother into the hard floorboards as the urgent need in his belly flared wildly. He let go of Kíli's wrist, spread one hand over his back and with the other yanked his hips up, lifting his backside so that Fíli might thrust against him. The temptation was there, to throw caution to the wind and fuck his way inside Kíli's tight, untried body, and claim him. 

Then the decision was no longer his. Fíli spilled out his seed over the smooth curve of Kíli's backside, striping wetness over his back. It seemed endless, every part of him straining to get closer, pleasure pulsing hotly through him and Fíli bucked helplessly, moaning, until he could finally collapse upon Kíli, still quivering.

Dimly, he felt Kíli reach back to grasp Fíli's hip, nails digging in as he clutched Fíli as though to keep him where he was. His whisper was a low rasp, muffled close to the floorboards. "Were it my choice I would have long since claimed you as my own."

Fíli sighed, wearily. "Then perhaps it is best that I am heir and eldest."

Silently, Kíli drew his hand back and almost, Fíli regretted his words. Almost. But he knew now was not the time to be making claims. Kíli was young, and heir though he might be, Fíli had little to offer. Erebor, he reminded himself. When they reclaimed Erebor and he was heir to more than meaningless words. 

Beneath him, Kíli moved restlessly and Fíli drew back, allowing him to roll over. One of Kíli's eyes was swollen, his lower lip split, both casualties of their wrestling and that Fíli did regret, alongside his own bruises. 

Most probably they both looked like they'd been doing exactly what they had been and Fíli could only hope the bruises settled before morning. Fíli sighed again, combing his fingers through the sweaty tangle of Kíli's hair. "Won't you let me…?"

He was not surprised to be slapped away. "Do not even think of offering me your pity braids; I will wear claiming ones or none at all."

Fíli's mouth twisted, "Your determination to have only me leaves our uncle in despair over the state of your hair."

Kíli tossed said hair defiantly. "So be it."

That said, Kíli helped him with his own braids, nimble fingers twisting them with the ease of long practice. His temper burned hot but cooled quickly and Kíli was once again at ease when they sneaked back to their bedrolls. The others were already snoring away, including Dwalin, and there was a scolding to look forward to in the morning. 

They both settled quickly, the pathway to sleep eased by their coupling, and Fíli had not slept so well since they'd left the Blue Mountains. It made being woken in the grayness of dawn all the more unpleasant and both of them grumbled, rubbing sleepy eyes as they sat up. To meet the cool blue of their Uncle's hard gaze as he crouched beside their bedrolls.

"And did we both sleep terribly well?" Thorin asked smoothly, his tone belying the stoniness of his glare.

"Yes," Kíli muttered and Fíli echoed him, eyes lowered. 

"That is indeed good news," Thorin said, gravely. He stood, bracing himself on both their shoulders to do so and they winced as one at the firmness of his grip. "Get up, then, and get your boots on. I believe we owe our host some recompense for his generosity."

Oh, that did not bode well. 

Reluctantly, Fíli did as he was told, his brother following at his heels as their uncle led them outside to what was surely a long list of unpleasant chores. That was the price for mischief, one that Fíli had paid time and again. And again. 

As his uncle's order, he took up an axe, though one meant for hewing wood rather than Orc's heads. Kíli did the same, the both of them chopping logs for firewood under Thorin's watchful eye. They had a small stack done by the time the sun rose and Kíli took a moment to strip out of his tunic, bared to the waist before he began again. Broad shouldered, his chest as well-furred as his chin was not, and a faint sheen of sweat was rising on his skin, dampening his brow. 

Fíli took a moment to do the same, laying his tunic across a fallen log. His eyes flicked from logs to Kíli and back yet again. Yes, well worth the price paid, he decided, turning his focus onto chopping wood, and did not think of the claim he had yet to make. 

Yet.

-finis-


End file.
